


The New Assistant

by Midnight Rain (MidnightRains)



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: BDSM elements, Bladder Control, Catheter Play, Desperation, Desperation Play, F/M, Full Bladder Sex, Humiliation, M/M, Masturbation, Omorashi, bathroom play, dom!bellamy blake, sub!john murphy, switch!clarke griffin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:53:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24772696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MidnightRains/pseuds/Midnight%20Rain
Summary: Clarke walks in on Bellamy just as Murphy's training is starting for the session. He asks her to stay. Will she assist, or will she be strapped down beside Murphy and trained right along side him? Read the warnings, if bladder play and such isn't your thing, don't read.
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin, Bellamy Blake/John Murphy, Clarke Griffin/John Murphy
Comments: 4
Kudos: 57





	The New Assistant

**Author's Note:**

> This is the second installment of the A Soldier In Training experiment. I'm giving it a separate posting because it introduces Clarke to the mix. That's the fun with sitting down to write with no outline, I never know what's going to happen.

Bellamy took Murphy’s training seriously. When he stated consequences, he followed through. Didn’t matter if it was a positive or negative reward, he didn’t make promises he wouldn’t keep or threats he wouldn’t enforce. So when he caught Murphy talking to Octavia, he sent the boy to medical with a busted lip and a task to complete.

It wasn’t easy. He had to get a catheter and lube from Abby’s supplies without getting caught. Getting caught meant he’d have that cath in for a week, his urine collected in a bag attached to his leg. Successfully bring the tubing back to Bellamy meant playtime with bladder control for a few hours, maybe an entire day. But not a week.

He was strapped down, for his own safety, positioned at the end of the bed, arms stretched over his head and attached to the headboard by long ropes that had almost no slack, legs spread and affixed to the bedposts at ankle and knee. He was securing the final knot when Clarke came in. Murphy shut his eyes like not looking meant he could pretend she wasn’t really there. 

“Hey. Since you’re here, would you do the honors? Murphy needs a catheter.” Murphy gnawed on his bottom lip to bite back a whimper. He was already tied down, naked, prone, exposed. His cock twitched between his legs.

“Why? If he has a bladder infection he should go to medical.”

“No. He’s in training. Bladder control. I’m going to cath him, and fill his bladder and he’s not going to piss until I allow him.”

There was a beat of silence. Murphy squeezed his eyes shut tighter, willing Clarke to just go away. She didn’t. “Sounds like a sex thing.” 

“Do you want to put the cath in or not?” Bellamy sounded on the edge of annoyed. 

“Yeah. I’ll do it.” Clarke performed the task with gentle hands. It still hurt, and Murphy couldn’t fight back whimpers and moans as the tubing was introduced to his bladder. He didn’t beg, he didn’t plead. He simply accepted his fate, and hoped Clarke would go away when it was over. When Clarke finished, rather than thank her and send her on her way, Bellamy asked her if she wanted to stay and watch “The Murphy Show”. 

To Murphy’s horror, she chose to stay. “If it makes you want to touch yourself, go ahead. Or ride his face, if that appeals. He’s training to withstand all manner of exposure,” Bellamy said, and Murphy was filled with dread, but he said nothing. He wouldn’t beg or plead with Clarke there. He wasn’t weak.

“I’ll just watch, for now.” Clarke settled in a chair, to watch Bellamy fill a syringe with a saline solution. He carefully pushed the liquid through the catheter tubing, sending it directly into Murphy’s bladder. Once the syringe was empty, Bellamy bent to kiss Murphy’s belly. 

He wasted no time filling a second syringe. Murphy watched with wide eyes as another collection of fluid was pushed into his bladder. By the time it was finished, he was straining against the ropes. Bellamy patted his stomach, pressing fingers just beneath his belly button, and rubbing his fingers around, as if looking for a buried treasure.

A third syringe went in, and a fourth quickly followed.Murphy writhed in his restraints, his back arched,making his stomach all the more pronounced. Clarke was fascinated, as the bulge of his bladder grew and his belly distended from the unprecedented amount of liquid his bladder was forced to hold. “How much have you put in him?” Clarke asked. 

“Each syringe is 200 milileters,” Bellamy explained. “He’s holding 800 now.”

“Oh wow.” Clarke’s tone hit Murphy with another wave of dread, especially when she rose from the chair and approached the bed. “Can I?” 

Bellamy smirked. “Well, I just finished this one, so you can give him the next.” Bellamy flicked his gaze to Murphy’s face. “Stay still, Murphy You know it’s worse when you squirm.” 

Murphy couldn’t stop himself from whimpering. Bellamy had never given him more than 800 ml before, but he’d just emptied the fourth syringe. He filled it again, and handed it to Clarke. Tears leaked from Murphy’s eyes, but he refused, absolutely refused to beg for mercy.

Clarke flushed the fluid into the cath, into Murphy’s bladder. Bellamy clamped the tubing then, denying Murphy the right to void his bladder. He then took Clarke’s hand and moved it to rest on Murphy’s lower stomach. 

“Feel how distended he is. How full. Go ahead, move your hand, don’t be afraid to make him squirm.” 

“You just said -” Clarke started to object.

Bellamy shook his head. “I prefer he stays still during the injection. After, well. He’s only human after all. Oh, by the way, he likes to have his dick played with, when his bladder is full.” 

Clarke looked up at Murphy’s face. His eyes were bright with discomfort. Tears streaked his cheeks. He’d even slobbered a bit, evidenced by the drool sliding from the corners of his mouth. “Jesus, Bellamy. He’s beautiful.” 

“Yeah, he is.” Bellamy guided Clarke’s hand to Murphy’s cock. “Stroke him. Don’t let him come, but get him hard.” Bellamy’s own hand took over caressing Murphy’s belly. “You’re doing great, soldier. Just hang in there a little longer.” 

Murphy’s back arched, likely in response to what Clarke was doing to him, but all it did was jerk his bladder around. Bellamy’s hand dug into him, fingers pressed to the spot that made him half mad. 

“Do you want to fuck him?”

Clarke was practically salivating. “Can I?”

“Sure.” Bellamy untied Murphy’s legs, then moved to haul him up a bit on the bed. The motion made him cry out, his bladder jostled, its fullness sloshing about and crowding out his other internal organs. His muscles quivered, and he instinctively tried to bear down in order to void. The cath clamp prevented even the tiniest of leaks. 

Bellamy resecured Murphy’s legs once he had him repositioned on the bed. “I’m going to remove the cath, Murphy. You will not piss. Clarke is going to fuck you and if you’re a good little soldier, you’ll be allowed to piss afterwards.”

Murphy had a safe word, and he was damn close to using it. Only his pride wouldn’t let him, because he didn’t want to give Clarke the satisfaction of seeing him fail. No. He clenched his muscles as hard and tight as he could, to prevent spilling his bladder. 

A tiny leak was expected as the cath was removed, but Bellamy pinched his cock to prevent anything more. After a moment of Murphy wiggling and whining under his hand, he let go and gave Clarke a sweeping ‘all yours’ gesture. 

Clarke mounted him, her nethers already wet just from seeing Murphy’s bladder so distended. He was such a thin, lanky thing, and with his bladder swollen more than double, probably close to three or even four times greater than usual, god. It was a turn on she never knew she’d be into. 

Or maybe it was the sounds he was making. He sounded like some wounded animal. Pathetic. Desperate. But he still refused to beg for mercy. 

Murphy was full on crying by the time Clarke slid down on his shaft. His cock was a lot bigger than she would have thought it would be. He reached her spot with ease, and god, he felt so good inside her. She loved that she was on top, effectively riding him. She would never have guessed that seeing him cry like he was would also turn her on.

She set her hands to his belly, pressing down on him as she rode him. Her climax raced to the surface, bubbling over before his, and she kept riding him, sliding on his cock like she meant to impale herself until she felt the gush of his warmth inside her. She moved off him slowly, disappointed it was over, but far from disappointed by the event. 

Fluids leaked out of her, and she rubbed her pussy against him a couple of strokes before she climbed off him. He was damn near delirious, but he was still holding his piss, because he knew what his trainer expected of him. 

Bellamy untied him, and stepped back. “This is the really fun part, Clarke.” 

Murphy grit his teeth as he rolled over onto his stomach and slid down off the bed, stretching as he went, hands reaching the floor, and pressing his engorged stomach against the mattress before he continued his descent. 

On hands and knees, belly hanging low, he crawled to his designated piss pot. He very nearly collapsed on the way, his belly so full and so heavy, and the water so desperate to be released that his muscles trembled from the effort of keeping it in. He was almost there, just another couple feet, relief was in sight.

He missed the pot by less than a foot, the stream of piss hitting the plastic tarp with a sound that shot through Murphy like a spray of bullets. He tried to make himself stop, but he couldn’t. The flow was too strong, too desperate. He had no choice but to let it spurt out of him.

Bellamy tsked. “You’ve disappointed me, Murphy. Come back to the bed. Let’s try again.” 

“Please, Sir. It was too much. I’m sorry. Please don’t…”

“What’s that, you want 1200 militers this time? All right. Come on. Crawl back over here. Up you go. Clarke, if you’d please reinsert the cath.” 

Clarke, apparently pleased to be Bellamy’s new assistant, grinned. “It will be my pleasure.” She waited for Bellamy to strap Murphy down before going to task reinserting the cath. Bellamy gestured to the saline mixture “No less than six syringes..” 

Clarke drew the first syringe and began to push the fluid into Murphy’s bladder. Murphy whimpered, and thrashed his head from side to side. He wasn’t sure how long Clarke took to fill him up, he wasn’t sure even how many syringes of fluid she pumped into him. All he knew was agony, his bladder so full he knew it must be about to burst.

“He needs to hold it at least ten minutes,” Bellamy informed Clarke. “Usually I make him crawl around, but I think we’ll leave him like he is this time. Pretty sure he’d piss all over the bed if we released him now.”

“As a medic in training, I have to concur with your assumption. So how are you going to get him to his pot?” Clarke massaged Murphy’s abdomen while she talked to Bellamy. Murphy was beyond words now, he could only whimper and moan, sometimes at the same time. Clarke had nimble fingers, and it didn’t take her long to find the spots that made Murphy react. His body tense, back arched, muscles clamped tight even though the clamped catheter would not allow even one drop of piss to escape his bladder.

The sounds he was making, and the look of absolute misery and resignation on his face, combined with the basketball appearance of his belly had Bellamy’s cock straining against his pants. He slipped a hand down and stroked himself.

“How long have you been doing this with him?”

“I’ve been training him for three months,” Bellamy told her. “Today was his most intense training. I don’t usually cath him. Mostly I make him fill up the old fashioned way.”

“Will you do that to me? With the catheter.”

Bellamy arched a brow. “You want me to fill your bladder?”

“Yes.” Murphy was both relieved and not that the attention was not on him. Clarke was still caressing his bladder, but not so intently. Unfortunately the lack of attention to the bulging mound didn’t relieve the pressure he felt. 

“RIght now?”

Clarke didn’t hesitate to give the affirmative. 

“On the bed. I assume you can cath yourself?”

“I’ll talk you through it, because I want you to tie me down.” 

She had no idea what she was getting herself into. She lay beside Murphy, and Bellamy restrained her before attempting to put the catheter in her. He used a clean and sterile tubing, as well as a clean and sterile syringe to inflate her bladder. By the third syringe, she was whimpering, but she wanted more. 

“Are you sure? 600 is a lot for the first time.”

“One more syringe,” she begged, and he obliged. Once she was full, he clamped the tubing, trapping all 800 ml in her bladder. She lifted her head to look down at the bulge. “Touch me, Bellamy.”

He set a hand on her belly, fingers massaging the mound of her bladder. His other hand grasped Murphy’s dick, and sent a jolt of pleasure through him that bucked against the overwhelming pressure in his bladder. He felt like he was going to die, while Clarke gasped and moaned, whimpered and mewed. Her back arched against his hand, her hips wiggled experimentally. The pain was unbearable, and entirely arousing. She really wanted him to fuck her. 

He was thinking about the potential of watching them fuck each other. He got hard just thinking about their distended bellies pressed together, and damn if it didn’t very nearly give him a spontaneous orgasm. Unfortunately he knew it would be impossible. This was Clarke’s first time. The moment the cath was released she’d void. And Murphy was damn near delirious with the torment he’d been through.

“I’m going to burst, Bellamy. Please let me void.”

“You can wait.” Bellamy pressed his hand to her belly. “Say ‘Yes, Sir’.”

“Please…”

“Say it.”

Tears pooled in her eyes, her hips spamed hard, and she groaned. “Please, Sir.”

“Not please. Say ‘Yes, Sir’ or you won’t be pissing for another hour. You will wait.”

“Yes, Sir.” 

“Good girl.” Bellamy wiped her tears, and pressed anew on her belly. The liquid inside her sloshed around, rolling in her bladder like waves on the ocean. The sensation caused a tingling to rocket up Clarke’s spine and she gasped. 

Clarke’s belly wasn’t nearly as distended as Murphy’s, but there was a clear bulge. Bellamy slipped his hand down to her folds, stroking her clit. He’d work up to fucking her with her bladder full, but this first time he was going to force her to orgasm. He kept his strokes slow, deliberate. He watched her face, learning the spots and the motions that got the best reactions out of her. 

After she climaxed, hit with what Bellamy was sure was the most intense orgasm of her life, he fed the drainage tubes from both their catheters into Murphy’s piss pot, and unclamped them both. He massaged their twin bumps as their bladders voided, the combined piss nearly filling the pot. 

He set the pot aside and removed the tubing. Murphy was untied first, and Bellamy carried him over to the tarp. “When he’s done,” he told Clarke, “he bathes in his piss.” He moved back to the bed. “I’m going to give him his bath, and then I’m going to fuck your brains out.” 

“Yes, Sir.” 

Bellamy carried the piss pot over to his soldier in training and poured the contents over him. Murphy whimpered, but lay still and accepted his golden bath. Bellamy returned to the bed where Clarke was still restrained. He undressed, neatly folding his clothes and setting them aside. "You did great, Clarke. Maybe next time I'll take the cath out after you're filled and we'll see how long you can hold it." 

"I'd like that, Sir," she murmured, bright eyes watching as he readied himself to fuck her.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are welcome! <3


End file.
